Spoils of War
by The Mind's Eye
Summary: Cooper discovers something that Charlotte left behind enemy lines.
1. Finders

**Chapter One: Finders**

Cooper cracked open a cold beer and congratulated himself. He'd spent the last two hours moving furniture, rearranging art, and wiping out any trace that Charlotte had shared his apartment just forty-eight hours earlier. All her little feminine touches-- magazines on the coffee table, candles in the bathroom, knickknacks on his bookshelves -- were gone. Cooper had gathered everything that either belonged to Charlotte or reminded him of Charlotte, and made a discard pile by the front door. As far as he was concerned, if she didn't come and collect her things over the weekend, they could be put out with the trash on Monday morning.

Cooper squeezed a lime into his Corona and toasted his victory. He walked through each room of his apartment, guzzling his cold beer, and inspecting his handiwork. Everything was exactly how it had been before Charlotte had moved in and taken over. Everything in sight belonged to him and him alone, and that felt empowering. He felt like he was finally back in control, making his own decisions and living life on his own terms.

Beer in hand, Cooper dropped into his favorite threadbare armchair. When Charlotte had moved in, his favorite chair had been relegated to the corner of the living room. But now that she was gone, it was once again proudly displayed in the center of the room. It felt good, only it didn't. Cooper shifted in his favorite chair and grimaced. The bottom cushion felt uneven and lumpy, and just plain uncomfortable. Cooper held his beer with one hand while the other hand delved between the cushion and the frame of the chair. He shifted his weight up off the cushion and craned his wrist. He froze when his fingertips brushed against something hard.

"What the hell?" Cooper got to his feet and pulled the cushion out of the chair. A flash of bright red caught his attention. He kneeled down beside the chair, setting his beer on the hardwood floor, and reached for the foreign object. It had been strategically wedged between the frame of the chair and a rip in the tacking fabric. Cooper grabbed the item as best he could and jimmied it a couple times. The object was stuck and didn't want to budge, but eventually, he was able to work it free.

'It' turned out to be a small, gently-worn journal with red leather binding. Cooper turned the book over in his hands and inspected it. The leather was soft and worn in places, and the binding was cracked from years of handling. It felt like someone's most treasured possession, but that didn't stop Cooper from violating its sanctity. He opened the journal mid-way and read the first passage that met his eye:

_I've never been so humiliated in my whole damn life! I can barely look myself in the mirror when I think about it. As if sobbing in his lap wasn't bad enough, I had to go and play the fool by asking him to marry me. And what's even worse is my pathetic lovesick heart actually believed he would go through with it. I had this whole fairytale thing planned. We would get married in Vegas. The ceremony itself would be quick and dirty, but I would belong to him for life. I would be his wife and maybe one day, the mother of his children-_

Cooper realized what he was reading and his knee-jerk reaction was to snap the book closed. "Holy shit," he muttered to himself. "Charlotte kept a diary."

**...TBC...**

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A/N: Will Cooper read Charlotte's innermost thoughts? Or will he respect her privacy? REVIEW to find out!


	2. Keepers

**Chapter Two: Keepers**

Cooper turned the small diary over in his hands. The leather was soft and enticing, and invited his touch. He caressed the hand-stitching and smiled to himself. The outward physical appearance of the journal reminded him of Charlotte. Beautiful and feminine, yet strong and sexy. Cooper could almost imagine her sneaking into his armchair late at night, probably long after he'd fallen asleep, and pouring her heart into the little book. He wondered what she would write about. He wondered what she really thought of him and everything they'd shared together. Most of all, he wondered about her secrets.

Cooper wanted to believe he could resist the enormous temptation. He wanted to believe he could rise above it, be the bigger person, and return the diary unread. That idyllic thinking, however, lasted all of two minutes. Cooper just couldn't pretend the journal was another blouse, or CD, or robe that Charlotte had left behind. It was her diary. It was a private collection of her innermost thoughts and feelings. The answer to every question he'd ever had about her was written on those pages. He could finally get to the truth, and maybe, find a little peace of mind. After everything she'd put him through, a couple answers seemed like the least he deserved.

Unfortunately, his conscience didn't quite agree.

Cooper set the diary on the floor and picked up his beer. He finished it in two big gulps, and discovered his options were more appealing when buzzed. Even still, it wasn't a simple decision. If he read the diary, he would finally know her big secret but Charlotte might never forgive him. If he didn't read the diary, he would be a true gentleman but spend the rest of his life regretting it. Cooper stood up and wandered over to the fridge. He helped himself to another beer.

Charlotte's diary sat in the middle of the living room floor. It was mocking him.

"Aw, screw it." Cooper walked back into the living room and grabbed the diary. He settled in on the couch for a long, deeply satisfying read.

To assuage his nagging conscience, Cooper promised himself he wouldn't read the entire diary. Instead, he would only scan for specific passages of interest. He would look for references to her marriage, their relationship, or instances where his name was mentioned. That way, he would only take information that was owed to him. Anything else, no matter how juicy, would be strictly off-limits. Given the circumstances of their nasty break up, Cooper thought that was fair.

Satisfied with his moral justification and feeling emboldened by alcohol, Cooper relished finally opening the diary. The very first page had the date written on the top left corner, and he calculated the journal was just over three years old. It would span their entire relationship from start to finish. From their very first naughty encounter in cyber world, this book would chronicle every move they ever made from Charlotte's perspective. The good, the bad, and the totally illicit. It promised to be one hell of a read.

**...TBC...**

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A/N: I know the chapters are short, but it's the only way I can post everyday...REVIEWS!


	3. Losers

**Chapter Three: Losers**

Violet shuffled down the hall in her Snugee and fuzzy slippers. She stopped in front of Charlotte's closed bedroom door and knocked. "It's past eight o'clock," she called. "It's time for my martini." When she didn't receive an answer, Violet pressed her ear against the heavy oak door. She heard loud thumps coming from inside the bedroom. "Charlotte?" Violet tried the doorknob and found it to be unlocked. "Charlotte, I'm coming in." She gave the other woman a few seconds to object before she opened the door and took a step inside.

Charlotte was crouched on her knees in the middle of the floor. She was surrounded by at least half a dozen overturned boxes. Her things were spilled out everywhere: her clothes were strewn across furniture, her shoes were in widespread mismatched piles, her papers were in total disarray, and her books were flying. Or at least it looked like they were flying as Charlotte frantically searched through them, tossing book after book into the air over her shoulder. Each one landed behind her on the hardwood floor with a thump.

"Um, Charlotte." Violet approached the other woman slowly and apprehensively. She dodged a large medical text that all but grazed her temple. "Charlotte, what's wrong?" She bent down beside the frantic blond and laid a hand on her arm. She could see pure fear in Charlotte's eyes, so she repeated herself, "What's wrong?"

Violet expected the usual Charlotte King brush off, so it startled her when Charlotte hollered, "I can't find it!"

"You can't find what?"

The top-half of Charlotte's body disappeared into a box. She rifled through it until she finally reached the end of her patience, and turned the box completely upside down. Contents went flying everywhere and spilled out across the floor. Charlotte rooted around, frantic and desperate, until she came to the realization, "It's not here."

"What's not here?"

"My journal," Charlotte fretted. "It's missing!"

Violet's mind went into several different directions at once. First and foremost, she had trouble believing that Charlotte kept a journal. Therapeutically speaking, it was probably a good idea for someone like Charlotte who kept their emotions bottled up inside. However, she still had trouble picturing it. Charlotte King with a journal seemed like an oxymoron. It was like Superman with kryptonite, and judging from the wounded expression on Charlotte's face, her journal could prove to be her greatest weakness.

"Oh my God." Charlotte buried her face in her hands and whispered, "Oh my God-"

"Calm down." Violet told her, "Everything will be alright."

"That's easy for you to say," Charlotte snapped. "Your deepest thoughts aren't out there for the whole world to read."

"Have you looked everywhere?" Violet kicked around some of the debris with her foot. "Maybe it's here and you overlooked it."

Charlotte glared at her. "It's bright red."

After hearing that, Violet could glance around the room herself and see it wasn't there. "Alright." She tried another approach. "When is the last time you saw it?"

"I don't know-"

"Yes, you do," Violet told her. "The last time you wrote something down, where were you?"

Charlotte made herself think back. The last time she'd felt compelled to write in her diary was a couple days ago after a nasty fight with Cooper. He'd said some pretty horrible things and she'd needed to vent. Charlotte had waited until he'd fallen asleep, taken her journal from her secret hiding place, and gotten comfortable in the living room armchair. Everything suddenly clicked into place and Charlotte's eyes grew wide. "Shit." She jumped to her feet and grabbed her car keys off the top of the bureau. She raced out the door so quickly that she forgot her purse.

"Hey," Violet yelled after her. "What about my martini?"

**...TBC...**

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A/N: One chapter left...REVIEWS ARE LOVE!


	4. Weepers

**Chapter Four: Weepers**

Charlotte pulled her car into Violet's driveway and killed the engine. As soon as the key was out of the ignition, she slumped forward and rested her head against the steering wheel. Charlotte tried to stay calm and keep breathing, but she felt like her entire world was crashing down around her. After realizing an hour ago that she'd left her diary at Cooper's apartment, she'd frantically rushed over there to recover it. In a cruel twist of fate, she had relinquished her set of house keys earlier that day, so Charlotte had no choice but to bang on the front door. There was no answer and it became clear that Cooper either wasn't home or didn't want to see her. She eventually left empty-handed.

On the drive back to Violet's house, it took every ounce of will-power for Charlotte to keep her tears at bay. She blamed herself. She'd been stupid and careless, and now she was going to pay the price. In her mind, it was a foregone conclusion that Cooper would find the diary. And because he had the emotional maturity of a twelve-year old boy, he wouldn't think twice about reading it. He would relish using her own words against her. Charlotte felt nauseous at the thought and decided she might call-in sick tomorrow. She would need some time to lick her wounds before she could face him and his laughing eyes.

Charlotte got out of the car, feet dragging, and walked up to the front door. She was just about to insert her key into the lock when the door abruptly swung open. Violet was standing there, still dressed in that ridiculous Snugee, looking like the cat that ate the canary. She quickly ushered Charlotte inside the foyer and pointed her in the direction of the living room. She gave her a little nudge and told her, "Someone's here to see you."

Charlotte walked into the living room and was completely caught off-guard by what she found; Cooper was sitting on the plush sofa waiting to talk with her. The diary was lying on the coffee table in front of him, and appeared to be unharmed. Charlotte immediately leapt forward and snatched up the diary. She hugged it against her chest, wrapping both arms around it in a protective gesture.

When Cooper saw her reaction to the diary, he told her, "I never would've pegged you as the type."

"There's a lot you don't know about me." Charlotte looked pained and had trouble meeting his gaze. "Although, I suppose that's not true anymore."

"It's still true."

Charlotte's head snapped up and she looked at him. Her eyes were round with wonder. "You mean-"

"I didn't read it." Cooper shook his head and admitted, "I started to, but then something stopped me."

"What?"

Cooper shrugged and stood up. It was a classic brush off, so Charlotte thought she wasn't going to get an answer. He walked towards the foyer, but lingered just inside the doorway. He turned to look at her. His eyes held an enormous depth of emotion that left her feeling breathless. "I want to know all your secrets but I think trust is more important." Cooper managed a weak smile; the first one she'd seen from him in over a month. "I guess I didn't want to learn your old secrets at the expense of you never telling me any new ones."

Charlotte watched him leave without another word. She just stood there stunned and humbled by his display of maturity. Tears pooled in her eyes as she realized that she might have misjudged him. Maybe Cooper didn't need to be protected. Maybe he could handle her secrets after all.

Only time would tell.

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A/N: If Cooper had read her diary, it would've been unforgivable. I think it's better this way...Thoughts?


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